The Stray
by xXastraXx
Summary: Luke finds a stray, injured, kitten on his way home from school. He takes it home to nurse it back to health, but how long can he keep it hidden from the Professor? (Luke, Layton, and Emmy dynamic - no ships intended)
1. Chapter 1

**People seemed to like the last little drabble that I wrote, so this one is a little bit longer. OAO Hopefully people still like it.**

**There was once a cat in my yard being attacked by crows, so my father threw a rock and scared the crows away. Since then, the cat has been hanging around the house and I feed it whenever I see it- although it's still a stray, we're good friends.**

**So this little story is loosely inspired by that… Because we all know that Luke wouldn't be able to resist an animal in need.**

**This first chapter is sorta dry, I admit, and short, but I felt it important to get in because it sets the basis for later chapters. It'll get better/funnier as the story progresses if all goes well.**

**XOXOXO**

It didn't matter whether it was day or night—in the city of London, everything was always lit up. From the metallic surfaces of parked cars that glowed in the sunlight they reflected, to the neon signs filling the windows of shops and restaurants, it was almost as if the city was perpetually shining like the sun. Every color of the spectrum danced and bounced off the eye perpetually; they glowed from streetlamps that dotted the roads, and shimmered on the Thames that made the light sparkle.

Amidst the ballet of the city's glow, the people of London followed their respective routines flawlessly. Jabbering and bustling, they never missed a cue to head to work or crowd the market—always at a specific place at a specific time. They drove and weaved and slid past each other, with the same curses, the same grumbles, the same greetings and laughter- a perfect choreography coupled with the light.

It really had an eerie beauty, the way the city danced endlessly in that same performance everyday… But sometimes the clockwork functioning of industry just made one hunger for nature—to see the wind whip through the trees and the animals scurry about. No control, just natural chaos.

It was really a silly notion, Luke knew. He'd lived in London when he was very young after all, so he should have been used to its busyness… but his earliest memories were of the much more rural town of Misthallery. That place had its own share of bustle and buildings to be sure, but it hadn't been as strict as London; the people were more laid back and, more importantly, there was always a variety of plants nearby to make it feel more homely.

…Of course, London had the Professor, and Luke wouldn't have given up being his apprentice for all the trees in the world. On days when he felt particularly homesick, his solution was usually to take a detour on the way home from school. Hyde Park was quite large and filled with greenery, and whenever he passed through, he always managed to spy a rabbit or a chipmunk going about its way; even though he had to double back a bit to get to the Professor's flat afterwards, walking through the park always brightened Luke's day.

On that particular walk home from school however, the young apprentice ended up with a little bit more than he'd bargained for.

He'd decided to take a shortcut over the grass once a fine mist had started to turn to rain, but a strange set of noises stopped him in his tracks. It wasn't uncommon to hear a crow or two in the park, but so many at once piqued his interest—they were really excited, he could tell, but about what he couldn't quite make out. Luke strained his ears, hoping to find some answers, but to no avail—he'd have to investigate further if he wanted to get to the bottom of things.

So he'd followed the sound, straining his ears in an attempt to triangulate its location. As he got closer, he was able to make out the caws of about five crows—give or take—that seemed to be talking about food… And there was one other sound that he made out when he finally reached the foot of the tree where all the commotion was at: the soft, desperate, cry of a tiny kitten. Luke squinted upwards through the mist.

The feline appeared to have snagged someone's sandwich and scampered up the tree with it, where the crows, taking advantage of its immobility, had ganged up on the cat in the hopes of stealing the meal; they pecked and battered relentlessly, ignoring the poor thing's cries to be left alone. Luke's gaze narrowed.

"Back off you bloody scavengers!" He shouted, grabbing a rock near his feet and throwing it in their direction, "Leave him alone!" The crows cawed more wildly, but the intrusion of a projectile into their midst forced them to scatter, and in a cluster of feathers and startled flapping, they made their escape. Unfortunately, the chaos also served to knock their victim off its roost as well, and Luke watched in horror as the kitten plummeted towards the ground, mewling pitifully.

He flung his bag off his shoulder and instinct took over as he leapt, holding the soft satchel out before him in the hopes of breaking the creature's fall. The wind was knocked out of him as he his stomach hit the ground hard, and everything became disoriented until he heard the soft 'thump' of his target landing. Then all was still, save for the soft song of the rain.

A long moment passed before Luke finally regained his wits. He peeled his hat away from his eyes, then breathed a notable sigh of relief—the cat had landed safely. _"But…" _The smile slid off his face as he pulled himself into a sitting position and examined the scene more closely. It was a relief that the tiny little thing had survived such a fall, but it was holding its front right paw before it as if it was hurt—it didn't even seem to have the ability to scamper off of his bag and over to where the sandwich had fallen nearby…

Luke looked around, but he knew that this creature was undoubtedly a stray. It wouldn't have had to steal food if it had an owner, and its fur wouldn't be so matted either… He picked up the sandwich and deposited it near the kitten, only half watching as it attacked the food eagerly.

_"The Professor would never let me take in a cat." _He thought, putting a hand to his chin thoughtfully, _"But this little guy can barely handle himself on a good day—he'll never make it if he can't walk!" _Maybe his mentor's answer would be different this time then. After all, a true gentleman never abandoned someone in need… right?

The cat meowed hopefully, casting its doe-like eyes up at Luke in a plea for more food, and right then the apprentice knew that the decision had been made for him. How could anyone say no to a face like that?

"All right all right!" He exclaimed, gently picking up the kitten and flinging his bag back over his shoulder as he did so, "But I'll never be able to keep you unless you behave, so you gotta be quiet okay?"

The cat meowed loudly in reply.


	2. Chapter 2

**So we have a long chapter here, finally! It's a bit choppier in some places than I'd like- particularly the last part, but I only have so much time to write these things between personal life, and I wanted to get this in. ~**

**It's told from Emmy's point of view, but I think it captures the suspicions that the Professor has about Luke's story as well… Or at least I tried. It'll switch back over to Luke's POV in the next chapter, so don't worry—I just wanted to show the mindsets of the people who don't know what's going on yet to set the scene.**

**In other news, now that the characters' positions are all laid out, I plan on having Mr. Cat cause some trouble in the next chapter and for the fun to begin— I have some ideas of course, but any proposed shenanigans are more than welcome!**

XXXX

Riding the old trusty scooter to the professor's house in the early afternoon was usually a leisurely drive of pleasure. The bustling people of London, the lights, the sounds—the wind whipping through her hair—it was something that would let any girl unwind after a long morning, and Emmy was no exception. She looked forward to finally finishing her business of the day so she could just satisfy her need for speed and freedom…

… Except when it rained.

It was a really, _really, _awful drive in the rain.

You couldn't go fast when the roads were wet, which was a bummer because, well… it was cold and wet outside… Why _had_ she gotten a scooter prone to hydroplaning when she lived in _London _anyways?

_"…Oh right, because it'd been affordable."_ Emmy made a face.

It was days like these, when she was crawling along the city's streets at a snail's pace, sopping wet and cold because an umbrella would have created too many precarious blind spots in an already dangerous driving situation, that she really debated whether a more expensive set of tires was out of her price range or not… But she managed, after inwardly cursing her existence quite colorfully, to arrive at the Professor's place in one piece… So maybe those new tires could wait just one more day. Or two... Or until next time it rained…

Emmy parked and took off her helmet with a heavy sigh, swinging her leg over the scooter and shaking her head. Maintenance could wait—right then she wanted to change into something dry and warm up with a nice cup of tea—thank goodness she'd thought to bring an extra set of clothes that day.

"Ah, Emmy, do come in!" The professor already had the door open and waiting when she next looked up—no surprise, what with him being an English gentleman on top of the fact that she was undoubtedly late—he'd probably been keeping an eye out the window. "I've already got the kettle on the stove—it's rather chilly out today."

"It doesn't take a puzzling genius to figure that one out, Professor." Emmy replied, managing a chuckle despite the chill. She followed him inside and closed the door behind them, grateful to finally be able to take off her shoes and pull her spare clothes out of her bag. They were still damp – seriously, what did a girl have to do to get a break in this city? – but it was better than what she had on, at least.

Only after she'd come out of the bathroom, newly changed, did she realize that it was oddly quiet—save for the whistling of the kettle the Professor was standing near. Emmy looked around, then blinked.

"Where's Luke?"

"He's not here yet." The Professor replied, glancing out the window and shaking his head worriedly before grabbing some cups out of the cabinet. Emmy shifted her gaze away from his work to look at the clock on the wall—she'd been a little over fifteen minutes late, and little Luke was _always _early… What in the world was keeping him?

"I'm sure the lad will be here soon." She tore her gaze away from the clock at the sound of the Professor's voice, "Though if he hasn't arrived within ten more minutes I'm not against going out to look for him…"

"Yes, I agree." Emmy nodded, plodding over to the table to accept the cup of tea he'd poured for her. The professor always made a fine cup of tea, and if they were going to be venturing out into the cold again, she wanted something warm in her system. That first sip was always the best thing on a rainy day—so delicious the way those delicate flavors just hit one's tongue, and that wave of warmth that spread throughout a chilled system—words just couldn't describe. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment-

-and then the sound of the front door banging open nearly gave her a heart attack.

After getting over the coughing fit that came with nearly choking on her tea, Emmy had whirled in the direction of the sound—only to find that the very person they'd been talking about was the perpetrator.

If she'd been soaked when she'd arrived, then Luke had nearly drowned in the rain—his clothes were dripping and he was visibly shivering; far more peculiar than that however, was the fact that his normally blue clothes were quite thoroughly marred by grass stains and mud… And he seemed oddly nervous for having just arrived home… Was that just from the cold?

Emmy shook her head, trying to calm her rapid heart-rate, but her voice was still rather high pitched when she sputtered, "Bloody hell, Luke!"

Now it was the Professor's turn to nearly choke on his tea. "Now Emmy-" He coughed, taking a moment to regain himself, "I understand we were both startled, but I don't think it calls for such uncouth language-"

"Fine then-" Emmy cut him off, "_Muddy _hell, Luke!" She turned her attention back to the boy, who was wrestling to get his shoes off (was it just her, or was he being awfully delicate with his bag?), "What in the world happened?"

There was a long moment before he answered—almost like he was considering what to say…

"I was coming home through the park, but when it started to rain I took a detour." Luke eventually explained, finally getting his shoes off and putting them in their proper place, "The grass was a bit slipperier and muddier than I expected, and I tripped." He leaped to his feet—a bit too fast, what in the world was he so anxious about?—and gave a bright smile. "You know me- I'm clumsy sometimes!"

Emmy looked at the Professor, raising an eyebrow as she did so; he met her gaze with a dubious one of his own. Together, they looked back at Luke, both wondering exactly what details he was leaving out of his story. Before they got a chance to ask however, the boy gave a nervous laugh.

"A-anyways" He stammered, shrinking a bit under the weight of their searching gazes, "I'm going to go get changed before I catch a cold!"

He practically fled up the stairs before anything else could be said on the matter. Emmy heaved a sigh.

"I'm not buying it." She stated flatly, addressing the Professor once she was certain Luke was out of earshot.

"Yes…The boy's story _does_ seem rather incomplete…" Setting down his tea, the Professor put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "…For his clothes to have gotten so thoroughly dirty when he tripped, he'd have to have gotten quite the running start… Far faster than if he'd simply been trying to outrun the weather…" His eyes grew calculating and distant.

Emmy's eyes widened. "Do you think he was running from someone then?" She frowned and tilted her head. "But… If that was the case, why wouldn't he tell us?"

The professor sighed and took another sip of his drink. "It's too soon to draw conclusions." He said after a moment. His gaze shifted away from the contents in his cup towards the stairs where Luke had disappeared, "We'll have to keep an eye on the boy to see if we can get further information."

Emmy made a face at that notion, but nodded in agreement. It was the only reply she could think to give at that moment that wouldn't seem immature to the Professor. She didn't like this not-quite-honest Luke one bit—if she had her way, she'd have marched right up those stairs and demanded answers under the threat of having Mr. Bear taken away, and that'd have been that. But the Professor tended to prefer more subtle methods, and Emmy couldn't deny that Luke seemed to respond to them better- last time she'd tried to take Mr. Bear hostage Luke had called the police and a large portion of Scotland Yard ended up on their doorstep to apprehend 'a crazed kidnapper'…

… So maybe subtle was the best way to go after all… But that didn't mean she had to like it.

-XXX-

The Professor had a cup of tea ready and waiting by the time that the boy's footsteps came pattering back down the stairs—which wasn't a surprise, given how long it'd taken him to return. Emmy half wondered if he'd gone out to the store and bought new clothes, but since this obviously wasn't the case, she settled on narrowing her gaze at him suspiciously when he accepted the offered cup. Luke's response was to determinedly avoid meeting her eye—much to her frustration.

"I'm sorry I took so long." He eventually said, speaking pointedly to the professor though Emmy had a feeling the words were directed more at her, "I was setting my school things out to dry and putting my dirty clothes in the laundry."

"It's no trouble my boy." The Professor responded, offering a soothing smile in an attempt to break the tension between the two (an utter failure, much to his chagrin), "It's good of you to do these things now rather than later. In fact-" He turned his attention towards his female assistant, "You are more than welcome to put your wet clothes in with his, if you'd like."

Emmy blinked and tilted her head, "Oh there's no need for that, Professor-" She insisted, "I can just wash them when I get home!" Her clothes were just _wet _after all—it wasn't like they were in any danger of being ruined—he should have known that… Right?

The Professor's gaze was oddly intent for an invitation to use the washing facilities though… Maybe he was trying to give a hidden message? Emmy doubted it was simply a puzzling way to tell her that he didn't like her fashion sense… But the only way to figure out for sure seemed to be to accept the invitation.

"I guess if you're offering though…" She eventually amended, still trying to figure out what in the world was so relevant about a washer in the first place. "It couldn't hurt…"

"Good!" The Professor replied, already shooing Luke (who seemed oddly intent on looking over his shoulder all of a sudden—was his face that pale a minute ago?) towards his office. "Take your time Emmy. We'll meet you inside."

He offered a friendly smile at her over his shoulder, but Emmy still found his behavior odd—almost too pushy for his normal gentlemanly self. It was only as she watched Luke's back- now stiff with that anxiety he was pretending not to have- disappear through the door, that she realized what the message had been: the Professor wanted a chance to try and talk to Luke alone—while she went and investigated upstairs… Emmy smirked.

_"Maybe these subtle methods of his really are the best kind after all." _She thought, heading for the bottom step once the door had clicked shut. She chuckled to herself, _"Not that I'll ever admit it, of course."_

-XXX-

There was a certain irony to be found in the fact that she was invading someone's personal space at the request of an English gentleman—even if Emmy knew it was because the Professor was deeply worried about the situation. After all, what if Luke had a bully? What if he was being blackmailed? There were plenty of reasons to be anxious about the boy's silence…

…Good motives didn't make her feel any less awkward as she stepped into his room, though.

She'd been in there before of course, but that had been in the pursuit of a certain stuffed hostage; this was different—this time she'd actually have to do some digging if she wanted to find anything… It felt wrong but… Emmy glanced at the bright colored clock on the wall and sighed. There was only so much time before her absence would become suspicious—she couldn't waste any more of it considering ethics—it was time to swallow her pride and get started.

Her first course of action was to cast her gaze around the room- just to get a feel for the area. It was surprisingly tidy for a boy Luke's age; a jumbled set of puzzles lay on his desk (along with his damp school supplies), and there was a rather large pile of books in the corner, but overall it was well organized and spacious… Then again, he did live with the Professor, so maybe it wasn't so surprising after all.

"That just means it'll be easier to find something out of place." Emmy mumbled.

And indeed, she'd hardly finished speaking when her wandering eyes settled upon an object fitting the description of 'suspicious'—a small wooden box sitting on Luke's bed with a bright red cross emblazed on the front: a first aid kit. Emmy blinked.

_"Odd…" _She thought, wandering over and opening it up for a closer look, _"I don't recall Luke wearing any bandages when he went off with the Professor…" _And yet, there were some missing from the set—clear as day before her eyes…

Just what was going on here?

She closed the set and turned away from the bed, figuring the only way to answer her questions was to keep investigating.

…And then she froze.

…Something…. _Something… _was crawling over her foot! Something big and fluffy and oh god it was a _tarantula!_

Emmy felt a chill go up her spine, and she gulped, rooted on the spot. She should have thought about how illogical it was that Luke would have a tarantula in his room, or perhaps considered that they certainly weren't native to London, but all she could think about, as she stood there trembling in fear, was that maybe—just maybe—if she stayed perfectly still… It might leave her alone.

…And then it bit her foot.

Emmy squawked and leaped onto the bed, plastering herself against the wall as if that would somehow protect her. Her heart raced as her eyes whipped back and forth, searching for where the creature had run. Tarantulas were poisonous, weren't they? She was going to die! That was what the buzzing in her ears was! Her systems were shutting down—this was it, this was the end-

"-_Wait a minute…" _Emmy blinked slowly as the realization hit her. _"That scratching noise isn't me…" _

It was actually coming from under the bed.

_"And come to think of it-" _She looked down at herself, taking a couple of deep breaths to get her heartbeat back in rhythm, "_-I feel just fine."_

Something just wasn't adding up here. If she wasn't poisoned then it hadn't been a spider that had attacked her foot, and if it hadn't been a spider that attacked her, then she still had no idea what it was that was making noise under the bed… Was this what kids felt like dealing with the boogeyman?

Emmy crept forwards, lying flat so she could hang off the edge of the bed and peer under… At first she saw nothing- which was almost enough to get her panicking again- but then a small form hobbled out of the shadows towards her, batting at her suspended hair…

It was a cat. A kitten no less. Emmy wasn't sure if she'd ever felt so silly in her life—a _kitten _had nearly given her a heart attack.

She righted herself and gently picked the creature up— laughing in relief when it mewed at her happily in response. It was definitely not a tarantula, that was for sure.

"Looks like you're the solution to my investigation." Emmy informed it, scratching behind its ears. Luke must've been hiding the little guy from the moment he'd walked through the door— which would explain why he'd been so nervous. The cat even wore the missing bandages from the first aid kit—everything finally fit.

"He probably brought you home because your paw is hurt, huh?" She mumbled, looking at the little creature thoughtfully as it played with her fingers, "But he kept you hidden because he knew that the Professor would never let him keep a pet…"

But that was silly—no one wouldn't have turned away a helpless baby animal that was hurt—particularly the Professor! He was an English gentleman after all! How in the world could Luke not realize that? Emmy made a face and rose to her feet, picking up the creature as she did so. This was preposterous—she was going to reveal the truth this instant!

The kitten gave a startled mew in response to the sudden movement, and when she looked down its large eyes met with her own … she hesitated.

The professor wouldn't turn away a kitten in need… But… What if he did? He'd never let Luke have a pet before, after all… And this creature would never survive on its own…

Emmy felt her resolve cave.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." She mumbled, shaking her head as she plopped back on the bed. Her eyes pouted at the creature in her lap. "We're never going to get away with this you know."

It simply purred in response.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm sorry this took so much longer than the other chapters—I've been so busy with things away from the internet! These past two weeks have been very straining both physically and emotionally—I just haven't had time for writing! /sobs**

**But let's get back to topic…**

**I deliberated on a lot of different 'hide the kitty' scenarios in this chapter, but I ended up deciding not to go with them all. I figured the Professor wouldn't remain fooled long enough for me to go through everything—it just wouldn't be realistic—so I ended up choosing the ideas I liked best along with ones that tied in the best to the story. Hopefully you all like the result as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

**It should also be noted that there is finally some conversation between Luke and Mr. Cat. I ended up really debating over how to go about this in terms of writing style, but I think the result is realistic to the world of Layton while still letting the reader get the insight that Luke's getting. To give credit where credit is due, I based the style of conversation off of a character by the name of Benvenuto in a book that I've loved ever since I was a child: The Magicians of Caprona, by Diana Wynne Jones. **

**You could probably find a pdf of the book online, if you wanted to see the character for yourself, but I digress. The point is that the author's writing has always inspired me and I'm glad that I finally got a chance to really utilize it, if only a little.**

**I'll never be able to do her justice of course, but even so, I hope you enjoy this new update to the story! Yay for long chapters!**

**'Nuff said.**

-XXXX-

The Professor's office was a jungle of scattered papers and books, of ancient relics sitting on dusty shelves whispering stories untold. Sliding puzzles sat silently in the open on tables, their metallic surfaces shimmering invitingly in the light; while other puzzles, trapped within the confines of books, peered out from underneath the camouflage of papers and case files.

The professor insisted it was an 'organized mess', the cleaning maid Rosa insisted otherwise, but to Luke it didn't matter. To him it'd always been a sanctuary of dreams and freedom.

…Except on that particular day.

On that day, when the door softly clicked shut behind them, Luke felt his heart jump to his throat, driving the gears in his head to turn so quickly he was certain the Professor would hear them churning out a whirr of ideas. _"Emmy's upstairs!" _He thought in a panic. It was the only coherent thing he could muster- the rest were notions, ideas—his vivid imagination taking over.

What if she went into his room? What if she found the kitten? What if she showed it to the Professor and he got angry? He'd never seen the Professor angry—but there was a first for everything, wasn't there? He was already suspicious—if he found out that Luke had not only deliberately disobeyed him by taking in an animal, but then proceeded to _lie _about it… It just didn't get much more ungentlemanly than that. Luke felt his mouth go dry.

Oh, but his thoughts weren't done torturing him—there was something else in his room that would be a prime target for evil assistants: Mr. Bear. It wouldn't have been the first time that Emmy had taken him hostage in pursuit of information, but this time Luke new that he wouldn't be able to call the cops. Not only had he been thoroughly reprimanded the last time (no matter what they said it _had _been an emergency though—a crazy lady had kidnapped his best friend!), but if there was another investigation of the household, the kitten would definitely be found…

…If the Professor noticed Luke squirming uncomfortably at his thoughts, he didn't show it; he simply took his usual seat behind his desk and gestured for his apprentice to do the same. Even as the boy complied however, climbing onto the seat across from the desk that he normally sat in to do puzzles, he was acutely aware of the gaze which the Professor surveyed him with.

Luke took a deep breath—he _had _to stay calm—fooling a renowned archaeologist and teacher wouldn't be easy if he was in a panic, and there was a life at stake! As a gentleman, he had no choice but to pull the wool over his mentor's eyes …right? He swallowed nervously.

"Uhh… You're seeming awful quiet today, Professor." He mumbled after a moment, the silence finally getting to him. He kicked his feet restlessly… Why wasn't the Professor asking questions anyways? It was obvious that he had quite a few- Was he maybe giving the boy the opportunity to open up on his own? ... That seemed like him—always a gentleman. Luke felt his stomach lurch with guilt.

Geez! Why didn't the guy just say something already? The silence was awful!

"…Aren't we gonna do any puzzles today?" Luke eventually asked, desperate to break the tension that came with the lack of sound. Steeling himself mentally, he lifted his gaze to meet that of his mentor's; unsurprisingly, the Professor's face remained stoic and unfalteringly calculating. He simply stared at the boy for a moment longer- Luke fidgeting uncomfortably as time went by and utilizing every ounce of willpower he could to resist the temptation to avert his gaze—before heaving a sigh.

"Oh yes." The Professor finally replied, his eyes still bright with worry but not nearly so intense, "I've landed myself quite the confusing one…" Luke was left to ponder this sentiment as his mentor's voice trailed off, and he blinked when the other finally turned away his gaze to instead rummage through a drawer… Did that mean that it had worked? That he'd managed to keep the ruse for a little while longer?

"I have quite a few papers to grade today, I'm afraid." The Professor continued, closing the draw and holding out a rather elegant pattern of yarn he'd received to the boy, "However, a colleague of mine gave me this charming Celtic knot puzzle that I think you'll enjoy. Why don't you give it a go?"

Luke accepted the offering. He was still highly on guard, and utterly baffled at the Professor's behavior, but even if it was the last thing on his mind, rejecting a puzzle would only give rise to further suspicion. Besides, maybe it would be an easy one and he'd be able to distract from the situation by solving it quickly—it certainly didn't hurt to take a look at it.

So he looked… and looked… and turned the puzzle another way and looked some more… But try as he might, Luke just couldn't focus on it. He was just too anxious. Heaving a sigh, he lifted his gaze back towards the Professor—who was now bent over his desk scribbling away. "Can I go grab my notebook so I can write things down while I work?"

His mentor took a moment to finish whatever he was writing before looking up. "I certainly don't see why not…" He replied slowly, "If you think it'll be dry enough to use, that is."

Luke was glad that the Professor went right back to his work once he'd finished speaking—it meant he couldn't see the speed of which his apprentice scurried out the door, he probably wasn't listening to the rush of the little feet that scampered up the stairs, and he hopefully didn't pay heed to the indignant squawk that Luke emitted upon seeing someone already in his room—with a certain furry friend on their lap.

Emmy giggled at the utter shock that was plastered across the boy's face. "That was my reaction when I saw the little guy too." She said, her smile widening when the kitten gave a mew—as if in agreement.

After gaping for a moment longer, Luke's gaze slid over to the stool where Mr. Bear sat. He was safe. That meant that she didn't plan on blackmailing him. Probably. His eyes slid back towards Emmy, blinking in confusion.

"…Why didn't you tell the Professor?" He asked after a long moment.

She averted her gaze, focusing instead on the kitten playing in her lap, and an awkward silence grew between them. "…I could ask you the same thing." She eventually replied, lifting her eyes to meet his, "This little guy wouldn't survive on his own – being so small and with a hurt paw- the Professor would understand that… So why not tell him?"

"I know but…" It was Luke's turn to look away, "…But what if he didn't?" It sounded silly to say out loud, but it was true! The cat wouldn't survive on its own—Emmy had said so herself… So even though it was silly… Even though she'd probably make fun of him-

"-That's exactly what I thought." Emmy's words had him lifting his eyes in surprise, but she didn't have that impish smirk she wore when she was being mean. She was serious…. Did that mean…?

"It's not going to be easy hiding a kitten from the Professor in his own home." She added, scratching behind the creature's ears and flashing as smile, "But we've got a better chance of succeeding if we work together—and it's only until the little guy gets better, right?"

Luke couldn't believe his luck. Emmy—the mean lady who couldn't admit that he was apprentice number one and picked on him all the time. Emmy—the crazy psycho who had taken Mr. Bear hostage and beat up police officers. That same person was on his side—was going to help him keep his secret.

"That's right!" He confirmed, now grinning from ear to ear.

It wouldn't be easy keeping such a big secret from the Professor, but if they worked together, they'd succeed for sure… right?

…right?

Well, the only way to find out was to try.

~XXXX~

With Luke having school in the morning and Emmy being busy until the early afternoon, there was always a portion of the day where the cat was left alone. After much deliberating on how to handle this—in which Emmy vehemently insisted that if her landlord discovered the little guy, he'd not only kill it, but her too- they'd both agreed that it was too risky for either one of them to take creature along with them… Which meant they had to compromise, and find a way to keep the lively little kitten hidden _and_ occupied while they were away.

They did this by using a variety of Luke's toys, along with some boxes they managed to find in his closet, to build a sort of playpen under the bed; the Professor was generally down in his office, and the kitten was usually quiet anyways. Luke would take him outside in the morning to use the bathroom while the professor showered, and then—after giving the creature a firm lecture on making sure that he didn't go potty in the house—had the cat in the playpen before he went off to school. It seemed like the perfect plan, given the circumstances.

… Unfortunately, like any young child, the kitten swiftly grew bored with the toys it'd been given; and this factor, combined with the fact that it had begun to adapt to hobbling about as its leg recovered… Was a bad combination.

It was a Friday afternoon when Luke arrived home and dashed up the stairs to drop his things off, as usual, that things first began to unravel. The moment he'd opened up his bedroom door he'd heard a desperate mewling, so he'd thrown his bag aside with a loud thump (oh god he hoped the Professor hadn't heard!), and wriggled under the bed to figure out what was going on… Except the kitten wasn't there…

Luke gulped then, but he knew that it wasn't gentlemanly to panic; the cries were definitely still coming from the room—he just had to keep a level head and figure this out. He took a deep breath to calm himself, and looked around.

"Where are you?" He called quietly, straining his eyes against the dark.

The boy was informed, rather exasperatedly, that his friend was 'right here'; where 'here' was however, was not specified. Despite this fact, Luke still heard an accusing mew for not immediately acting- much to his dismay—he needed the cat to quiet down before the Professor got suspicious!

Crawling out from under the bed, Luke got to his feet and looked around, but saw nothing. The kitten meanwhile, informed him that he was awful slow for someone so big and that he wouldn't survive much longer being attacked by this monster. Luke blinked in confusion.

"There's no monsters in this room." he insisted, attempting to sound soothing as he tried follow the sound to a source, "The Professor helped me monster-proof it when I first started living here, and Mr. Bear protects it too."

The kitten however, would not be quelled. It remained adamant that there most certainly _was _a monster, and he wasn't going to be told otherwise until he was no longer being attacked by it!

While it ranted—at this point there was no use in trying to reason with it- Luke followed the sound of the struggle, eventually noticing a drawer on his desk that was slightly open. Pulling it further, he found his friend, as well as the 'monster'. The little kitten had managed to tangle itself quite thoroughly in what appeared to be yarn.

_"My yarn!" _Luke realized with a start, gently picking up the cat and stroking it so it would calm a bit and he could set about untangling him. _"That's the Celtic knot puzzle the Professor gave me…"_ Or what was left of it, at least. At this point it was a tangled mess with a cat in the middle (now glaring accusingly in a way that clearly said 'I told you so'), and Luke doubted very much that it was Celtic anymore. He sighed.

At least there was some comfort to be found in the fact that getting the yarn untangled was still a pretty big puzzle.

"It's not a monster." Luke informed the kitten, once it had been disengaged from the mass of string and had calmed down somewhat, "It's just string—it didn't hurt you, after all, did it?" He continued to work at getting the mess untangled while the cat blinked slowly and tilted its head at him.

It was a moment before it admitted that it hadn't been _hurt, _persay… But it'd been awfully surprising to be playing with the pretty dangly thingy and suddenly be stuck!

Luke supposed he hadn't thought of it that way—for something so tiny it must have been pretty scary... "…I guess that would be surprising." he eventually agreed, setting aside the 'puzzle' and scratching behind his friend's ears. It was impossible stay mad at the little guy when he made faces like that… but still…

"…You got into this mess because you disobeyed me, you know." He began, doing his best to look stern at the set of wide eyes presented to him (was this how the Professor felt when reprimanding him?), "I told you that you're not supposed to come out of your playpen without me or Emmy here. I know it's boring but—"

The sound of a creaking floorboard made Luke cut himself short. He knew that sound—it came whenever someone passed the very top step of the stairs onto the landing—and right then, there was only one other person in the house…

"Luke?" Sure enough, the Professor's voice called from nearby. The boy felt his heart accelerate at the thought... But panicking was ungentlemanly.

So, in a flash of movement and raw intellect, he picked up the cat and deposited it into the still open drawer, hitting it so that it would shut. It didn't. Luke gulped. The bedroom door was still open (he'd originally only come up to drop his things off, after all) and the footsteps were getting closer- there wasn't time to fix the mistake. What to do, what to do….

By the time that his mentor appeared in the doorway, the young apprentice stood in front of his desk, awkwardly holding the tangle of string. He did his best to look innocent while the Professor surveyed him suspiciously.

"I thought I heard you talking to someone…" He said slowly, his eyes taking a quick flick around the room—as if expecting a person to pop out of the woodworks—before settling on Luke once again. "Are you quite all right, my boy? You've been up here a rather long while for someone dropping off his things…"

The way his voice trailed off, Luke knew that his mentor was giving him the chance to explain himself once again—as he'd kindly done at least once a day since the first time they'd spoken… And Luke felt his stomach clench guiltily as he instead blurted out the first excuse that came to his mind.

"I wasn't talking to anyone other than myself, Professor!" He exclaimed, hoping the smile that he flashed didn't seem as strained as it felt, "I just got distracted by that knot puzzle you gave me the other day-" He held up the tangled mess as evidence, "-It's pretty hard, you know."

Now the Professor was an expert at seeing through Luke when he was dishonest—this matter was not helped by the fact that the boy was terrible at lying in the first place. However, for all his lack of emotional subtlety, it could not be said that the apprentice of the great Professor Layton was lacking in intellect. He knew full well that if there was one thing that would distract the Professor from calling out his odd behavior, it was puzzles.

…And he was right on the picarats with that one.

The moment that the older gentleman had comprehended what the tangled mass of string that Luke held out before him was, his eyes widened in both shock and horror, and he opened and closed his mouth several times—at an utter loss for words—before finally shaking his head and muttering, "Luke, my boy… The objective of a Celtic knot puzzle is to make it _into _a proper Celtic knot, not untangle the thing all together…"

"Oh." Luke blinked slowly, deciding to play it ignorant as the Professor approached and took the string from him. "Well, even if it's 'knot' correct-" the boy couldn't help but chuckle at his pun—it helped him feel less nervous about this whole 'dishonesty' thing, '- It was still a pretty big puzzle getting it this far."

"I've no doubt it was." The Professor mumbled, still fiddling with the string with that same appalled look on his face. "I've never seen a Celtic knot puzzle this… well… _not_ knotted…"

_"Oh man!" _Luke felt his stomach turn guiltily, suddenly feeling more panicked than he'd been before, _"I've traumatized the Professor by ruining his puzzle!" _He felt awful about it—particularly since it wasn't actually him who'd done the crime in the first place… But the effects wouldn't be permanent…Hopefully…. And maybe he could herd his mentor towards the door and down to his office while he was distracted…

… He'd barely gotten three steps in when a muffled meow reached their ears. The Professor immediately snapped out of his reverie and looked around.

"Did you hear something strange?" He asked, once again glancing around the room.

"Strange?" Luke asked—a little too quickly. He hoped the Professor couldn't see the lack of color in his face, or hear the wild drumming of his heart. "Uhh… That was me!" he made his best bird whistle, followed by a couple of barks, "Just felt like practicing my animal-speak! You know what they say—anytime is a good time for bird calls!" He laughed, hoping the strain only reached his own ears…

…But of course, that was never the case with the Professor.

"…I admit I've never heard of such a saying." The older man replied at length, surveying Luke with that stoic, calculating look of his; it was almost possible to hear the gears in his mind whirring like a well-oiled machine—just like they always did before he solved a puzzle…

He was going to figure it out.

This was it.

Slowly, the Professor's eyes slid away from the boy and back around the room. The air was heavy with silence and tension until he finally began to speak, "Tell me Luke, have you been-"

He was cut off by the sound of the front door creaking open, and the two of them froze. Luke wasn't sure what was more deafening—the sound of his own heartbeat or the silence that filled the space between them. They both shifted their attention towards the bedroom door, though he was far too panicked to really consider who was downstairs until the tension was shattered by a melodial voice.

"Professor!" Emmy called, sounding just a little bit confused that he wasn't there to greet her, "I invited myself in, is that all right?"

Luke snapped his gaze back to his mentor, who remained still. He wondered for a moment if the older man was still going to press for answers, but then the Professor adjusted his hat and exited the room. "Yes, that's quite all right!" he replied, his voice growing distant as he walked down the stairs, "My apologies for not having tea prepared!"

The young apprentice simply stared after him, no longer trying to hear what was going on in favor of getting his heartbeat back into its normal rhythm. He couldn't believe that he'd gotten out of that one—it was some sort of miracle that Emmy had arrived when she did.

…Maybe he'd let her get away with calling him 'second assistant' just once…

…But probably not.

-XXXX-

It took a lot of convincing to get the young kitten to agree to be quiet, but with the promise of new toys that it could play with later, along with some begging, Luke managed to drill the importance of his point in. They'd just dodged a bullet after all—they couldn't risk anything right then, even if it meant being bored for a while.

With the kitten settled in his room once again, he'd proceeded downstairs and joined the other two in the Professor's office for tea.

After going through the mail and discovering no new case files—to their mutual relief- the trio had set about on their own respective tasks for the day. Luke wanted to finish his homework for the weekend, the Professor was correcting another batch of papers, and Emmy was bustling about tidying up. They chatted casually and chuckled like good friends, but throughout it all there was a strong atmosphere of awkwardness that none of them was willing to admit to.

Luke was still reeling from the recent events upstairs, and his anxiety only made him that much more fearful of letting something slip; as such he only spoke when spoken to—a factor that didn't exactly help the suspicions presented against him.

Emmy realized that something had happened just before she arrived—the tension between the two boys was driving her up a wall. She wanted to demand answers, but confronting Luke in front of his mentor while he was all riled up probably wouldn't go well… So she was stuck making casual conversation in the hopes of breaking the ice—which wasn't working.

The Professor meanwhile, was giving short, but courteous, answers to Emmy's remarks and questions, even occasionally directing the conversation at Luke in the hopes of getting the boy to open up a bit... He didn't, much to the older man's disappointment... It didn't take a puzzle master to figure out that something was going on—not just with his apprentice, but a certain female assistant as well, and he had a notion that their mutual suspicious behavior was connected… But what sort of secret could be so important that they'd put aside their ceaseless arguments to mutually keep the truth from him?

Each one of the trio had their own set of thoughts whirling about in their mind, but none were willing to talk about the elephant in the room; all they could do was wonder the same questions over and over—hoping for answers to miraculously come to them.

… Unfortunately, no amount of critical thinking can solve a puzzle without enough information.

They were at a standstill, simply waiting for someone to crack.

Each one of them realized this, but admitting to the fact would be admitting that something was wrong, which neither Luke nor Emmy would dare do for fear of—in a more literal sense than they liked to admit—the cat getting out of the bag.

So it was that the same futile chatter and awkward atmosphere continued to permeate their work, until, finally, the Professor rose to his feet with a sigh.

"I believe I'm going to need a stronger cup of tea." He murmured, picking up the tray of tea supplies they'd long since finished off and heading for the door. "Please excuse me, I'll be right back."

And then he was gone. The duo left in the room listened to the soft footsteps retreating down the hall towards the kitchen—making sure he was truly out of earshot- before Emmy rounded on Luke, her eyes filled with fire.

"All right, out with it." She demanded, crossing her arms, "The only way that could have been more awkward was if the cat had walked in halfway and shouted 'surprise!'—what the heck has got things so tense between you two?"

Luke shrank a bit in his seat. Emmy was pretty scary when she got that look in her eye, and the fact that he was looking up at her didn't exactly help.

"I uh… Mighta had a close call just before you got here…" He finally said slowly, twiddling his fingers.

"How close?"

Luke gulped, but in a hushed tone rapidly told the story of what had transpired before she'd walked in. At first Emmy hadn't looked that impressed, but by the time that the boy had finished her eyes were wide and her mouth was slightly agape. For a long while she remained that way—in utter shock over what she'd just heard. Eventually she shook her head.

"Luke-" She began, putting a hand to her temple and sighing in frustration, "-If the cat isn't cooperating with us, there's no way that we're going to be able to keep it hidden. Maybe we should just-"

"No!" The boy jumped to his feet, his eyes pleading. "It'll be okay." He insisted fervently, "I made him promise to be quiet, so it won't happen again…" his voice trailed off, but his eyes widened into the biggest set of puppy eyes he could manage. "Please Emmy? Just a little while longer?"

Now 'weak' was not a word that could be used in conjunction to the Professor's assistant. Emmy could take down a person three times her size without breaking a sweat; she was proficient in two different types of martial arts, including judo, and could run a mile in under six minutes. But even she was not capable of shooting down an eleven year old boy with a trembling bottom lip and eyes the size of saucers—it was one battle that, no matter how hard she tried to steel herself, she would lose.

The face she made at that notion was quite precious.

"That's not even remotely fair." She hissed, now pouting herself. They stared each other down a moment longer before, "Fine, _fine!_" She caved, "Just stop looking at me like that, okay?"

Luke smiled radiantly in reply.

"Yeah yeah, you won this round, _second assistant-" _Emmy admitted while she rolled her eyes, "-But you sure didn't learn that from any gentlemen I know." Ignoring his insistences that he was 'apprentice number one', her gaze shifted towards the door. "We should probably go check on the Professor. He'll get suspicious of the quiet before long."

Her logic had interrupted the boy's rant, and, having lost his train of thought—much to his frustration—the only reply he could think to give was to nod in agreement and follow her out the door. He still made a face though, but that just left Emmy with the satisfaction of winning the second round.

They were both wound up and worried- the arguing was a result of that. But the kitten knew that it had to stay quiet to stay hidden, and it only needed a couple more days before it'd be fully functional again. Hopefully. Neither Emmy nor Luke was certain that they could keep up the charade for any longer than that, at any rate. The Professor wasn't a fool—he knew something was wrong and he was hot on their tails to figure it out; the only reason why he hadn't solved the puzzle already was because he was giving his friends the benefit of the doubt that he didn't give criminals… But that patience wouldn't last forever.

…But it was only for a little while longer, right?

They could keep it up until then… right?

The duo was still glaring at one another when they entered the kitchen—mostly as an action to hide the anxious thoughts knocking about in their heads—and the Professor couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of them. He had just finished pouring his own cup of tea, but had turned upon hearing them enter the room, and he couldn't resist raising his eyebrows at the two in amusement.

"Goodness, you managed to get into an argument already?" He asked, teasing laced throughout his tone, "I can't leave you two alone for a moment, can I?"

Both simply turned their glares upon him in reply, as they normally did when it boiled down to the Professor settling an argument; Luke had even opened his mouth to give the usual rant about how 'mean Emmy called me 'second assistant' again!' as he turned… But the words died in his throat before he could make them.

Right behind the Professor was a certain little kitten- barely two feet away from his elbow. But this kitten wasn't simply oblivious to the danger it was in as it happily wagged its tail and hopped on its paws, oh no, that would have made things easier. This little naïve fluffball was doing the unthinkable—it was drinking tea—specifically, the_ Professor's _tea_._

Luke wasn't sure about Emmy, but it took him quite a bit of concentration to keep a straight face at the sight of his friend drinking from his mentor's cup. Thus, any explanation he had been planning to give was completely blown from his mind in favor of not arousing further suspicion—he barely comprehended when the Professor tilted his head slightly and asked,

"All right then, what's the problem this time?"

His voice sounded like he was still in good humor—which meant he hadn't noticed—but Luke was completely frozen on the spot. The problem was that someone was enjoying the Professor's tea—and quite thoroughly by the looks of it—who wasn't the Professor! What the heck other problems were there to think about?! What in the world was he supposed to say?!

In this utter state of shock, the young apprentice simply opened and closed his mouth several times—earning a concerned look from his mentor—before Emmy stepped in. She was good at thinking on her feet.

"Actually it was a puzzle, Professor!" she said, blurting out the first thing that she thought would sound reasonable, and launching into an explanation before anyone had a chance to react. "A man is trapped in a room. The room has only two possible exits: two doors. Through the first door there is a room constructed from magnifying glass. The blazing hot sun instantly fries anything or anyone that enters. Through the second door there is a fire-breathing dragon. How does the man escape?" She spoke rapidly as she explained—hopefully this factor of panic would pass as frustration to the Professor—and took a step forward as she spoke.

Her movement gave Luke the notion to do the same, and he was able to slide past the Professor while the older man listened to Emmy's figmented answers each of them had come up with.

"You see, I think the man should just slay the dragon, that's what they always do in the books-"

Luke inched closer to the counter, his eyes never leaving his target. He had to admit he was pretty impressed with Emmy's ability to babble so much, but that seemed to be a thing that most girls could do—it was probably a lot more impressive that such an ability was actually coming in handy for once.

"-But Mr. Second Assistant here seems to think that a true gentleman doesn't get into unnecessary fights with dragons!"

He completely ignored this jibe—a feat to his concentration—in favor of plucking the kitten from the counter and hiding it behind his back. The poor Professor—Emmy was practically bearing down on him at this point in an attempt to make the act convincing—looked so harassed, hanging onto his hat for dear life.

…But at least he hadn't seen.

Emmy went on—a little longer than Luke felt was necessary—about how cowardly his notion had been, before she finally pulled away from the older man in a huff and crossed her arms.

"Well?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, "What have you got to say about it?"

The Professor had to take a moment to compose himself—he was rather dumbstruck by his assistant's temper—but eventually he finally adjusted his hat and gave an answer.

"Well, I certainly can't say anything to the chivalry of fighting dragons as I myself have never encountered one…" He said slowly, looking between the two with raised brows, "But if I were that man, I'd simply wait until nightfall and walk through the room with the magnifying glasses. He wouldn't get, as you said, 'fried', in such a case."

Leave it to the Professor to come up with such an elegant answer so easily. Luke beamed up at him when the man glanced between the two once more, just to be certain it was settled.

"That's exactly what I was trying to tell her!" He exclaimed, ignoring the glare he felt boring into his forehead in response.

If the Professor noticed this interaction, he pretended not to; instead he simply chuckled and shook his head. "Yes well, I daresay waiting awhile sounds a bit more pleasant than attempting to fight a dragon…" His voice trailed off as he finally noticed his cup of tea—or more accurately, the fact that it was half drained. A very long and tense silence filled the room as he stared, the gears in his head slowly turning, before he finally looked up and settled his gaze on Luke.

"I say, my boy, did you drink my tea?"

"Uhhh…" Luke rubbed the back of his head nervously with his free hand, then looked up at the Professor with the best sheepish look he could muster. He couldn't tell the truth- if a rambunctious kitten was out of the suspect list, that left him as the only possible culprit—which meant that the only way to keep up the ruse was to admit to the crime.

"I… Wanted to give it a try?" He smiled weakly.

The Professor stared for a moment longer, once again at a loss for words due to the actions of his companions, before he finally heaved a sigh and shook his head. "But Luke," he said, failing to keep the slightest trace of incredulousness out of his voice, "You've always been rather adamant about how much you dislike Earl Gray. Why in the world would you drink half a cup?"

Luke fidgeted—he hated when the Professor used his 'parenting' tone on him, it made him feel so guilty—and there was a long pause following his mentor's query. He thought about a lot of possible things he could say, but nothing seemed plausible—why in the world _would _someone drink so much of something they really didn't like?

Eventually, he settled on the most innocent reply he could think of:

"…I thought it'd make me into more of a gentleman…?"

Luke put on his best set of puppy eyes—if they worked on Emmy maybe they'd work on the Professor too. Sure enough, the older man cracked a smile at the boy after only a moment.

"Your logic never ceases to amuse me, my boy." He chuckled, finally turning away and pouring himself another cup of tea; this he sipped at—looking very relieved to do so—as he grabbed the second pot. They had two within the household because the moderate tea that the Professor preferred and the sweet tea that everyone else enjoyed tended to clash in flavor; with how often they drank tea, it became an easier task to simply own two teapots rather than constantly rewash the one between each brew.

"Go ahead and dump the rest and rinse the cup." The Professor added as he bustled about, "I was just about to get started on some oasis berry regardless, so there's no harm done."

Luke sighed in relief—for more reasons than what his mentor realized. Sure, the kitten had misbehaved by leaving the room, but boy was he keeping his promise to be quiet- and now that the Professor was no longer asking questions, the entire atmosphere was considerably lighter. They'd successfully dodged another bullet.

…Now if only he could get this cat back upstairs to safety. Luke looked at Emmy.

It was certainly true that the apprentice and assistant to the great Professor Layton didn't tend to get along- in fact, they often liked to nitpick each other for the simple reason that they could. The two were friends of course, but their relationship was more like that of argumentative siblings—always in combat more than they were comrades.

However, when push came to shove, they became a team that few could compete with. Now was one of those times.

In that split second, through that simple look, a multitude of information passed between them. Luke had the cat in his left hand behind his back, and the teacup in his right; if he attempted to rinse the cup like the Professor had said with only one hand, it'd create more suspicion. If he hesitated on moving towards the sink to do as he was told, it'd be the same result. There was only one option to avoid the outcome, and they both agreed on what it was.

"Let me rinse it!" Emmy insisted without hesitation, snatching the cup from Luke's hands and turning to the sink. "I feel bad after that whole argument and all—it's the least I can do for my favorite 'second assistant'!"

"-Apprentice number one." Luke corrected, though he was smiling nonetheless. He'd never actually worked with Emmy successfully before without the Professor involved—it was actually pretty amazing what they were capable of when they put their minds to it. Maybe he'd try to get along more in the future… So long as she dropped that whole 'second assistant' thing anyways…

Luke shifted his attention towards his mentor. "I'm gonna go grab something from my room, okay?"

The older man hardly looked up from what he was doing as he nodded, but as he scampered up the stairs and out of sight, the young apprentice couldn't help but think the Professor's smile looked a little too bright for simply making tea.

…It must have been a trick of the light.

-XXXX-

Once he'd gotten safely up the stairs and into his room, Luke had plopped his feline friend onto the bed and proceeded to reprimand him in a hushed tone. Being a kid himself, he knew about how easy it was to get bored, and how difficult it was to be cooped up inside all day, but he also knew the value of following the rules. Unfortunately, he was supposedly only grabbing something from his room, which meant he only had a minute or two before things got suspicious… And that wasn't exactly a long time when it came to drilling in the importance of staying hidden to a stubborn little kitty.

"I know it's hard-" He whispered hurriedly, eyes shining with worry as he stroked its ears, "-But you gotta be good okay?"

The cat glared at him reproachfully, and insisted rather indignantly that it hadn't done anything wrong. It had been quiet just like it'd promised, and it'd found some new toys, just like Luke had promised. Besides, the monster who usually wore a box on his head most certainly hadn't seen him, so there was no reason for him to be getting in trouble!

_"…Monster with a box on his head?" _Luke blinked, going over what he'd heard to make sure he'd translated it right. He had. "What are you—" the question had barely begun to form when the answer clicked, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"The Professor's not a monster!" He insisted, still chuckling, "He's the most incredible man I've ever met, and he's really smart too!" Of course, he'd met his fair share of people who'd disliked his mentor, but of all the names the Professor had been called, 'monster with a box on his head' was certainly a new one. The fact remained however, that his mentor never was and never would be any of those things—no matter what anyone said.

To Luke's dismay however, his friend disagreed.

If the box head twoleg wasn't a monster, the cat pointed out, then what reason was there to run away from him?

It was a fair point, Luke had to admit.

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, looking thoughtful. How in the world was he supposed to explain the complexities of the situation to such an innocent creature? It wasn't likely the little cat would understand- no matter how he explained the concept of 'no pets', it would probably sound like a terrible notion to an animal.

Maybe that's why the Professor sometimes told him to wait until he was older and ask again when it came to complicated questions.

Just as Luke was starting to fumble together a reply in his head, he glanced at the clock on his wall. Two minutes had already passed. He yelped in horror and leaped to his feet.

"I'll explain later, I promise!" He hissed softly, diving for his satchel and removing a book from it as he did so, "Just stay out of trouble for now!"

And with that he dashed out of the room, leaving a very confused feline in his wake.

-XXXX-

Luke was lucky enough that the book he'd snagged in his rush had been one on puzzles, so it was a simple matter to use the excuse that he'd had to choose between a variety of them to ward off the Professor's suspicion. With that settled, the day proceeded normally- much to his relief.

Between the finely made tea and the lack of cases that needed investigating, along with the fact that the tension had finally dissipated, each of them had made good progress on their work by the time that the cloudy sky outside began to darken. Having finished tidying up the Professor's office and organizing his mail for easy access later on, Emmy eventually plopped down next to Luke to help him on a puzzle he appeared stumped on.

While they bickered in hushed tones, the Professor continued to scribble out grades on paperwork. It was the time of year when grades were about to close, and this was his last batch of research papers he had to correct; the fact that he'd be free for the upcoming break once the last 'i' had been dotted and the last 't' crossed served as motivation to get it done sooner rather than later. Besides, he had a casual trip planned for the break that he didn't wish to be late in departing for—a true gentleman was never tardy, after all.

Luke watched his mentor work, even as he argued with Emmy over the mathematics on a certain puzzle. It was amazing how the Professor could not only tune them out, but also work so diligently for hours on end; he was so focused that his concentration didn't break until after he'd put the final paper aside and looked up—he seemed startled by the dimness of the room.

"Hmm, when did it get so dark?" He mused. There was no response, but the argument between his coworkers swiftly silenced itself as they shifted their attention to him; they watched as the older man stood and stretched—just slightly so as not to make a scene of course—and then glanced at the clock.

Emmy couldn't help but giggle when the Professor gasped at the sight.

"It's already past seven?" he asked, clearly startled, "Goodness Emmy, you could have gone home two hours ago! And Luke, my boy-", his gaze slid over to his apprentice, "-you usually start asking about food long before now!"

"-But you seemed busy!" They both exclaimed in chorus, much to the older man's amusement.

After glaring at Luke (his reaction was mutual), Emmy cleared her throat. "I wanted to stick around until you were finished in case you needed some assistance." She clarified, offering a smile, "It _is _my job you know-"

"-And I wasn't so hungry that I wanted to interrupt you!" Luke interjected, ignoring the second glare sent his way. It was impossible however, to ignore the loud growl from his stomach that testified silence as no longer an option, and he immediately looked sheepish as he admitted, "I _am_ pretty hungry though…"

Luckily, the Professor took their antics in good humor, and after getting a good chuckle—both out of their reactions and his own lack of attentiveness—he made a gentlemanly proposal to resolve the situation nicely.

"The weather is still rather dreary outside." He began, looking out the window. It was no longer raining, but the clouds still threatened it and there was probably a chill in the air—not something one should go out alone in. "So Emmy, know that it's no trouble to drive you home." It wouldn't have been the first time they packed her scooter onto the roof—they could manage it again. "And-" This time he gave Luke a smile, "-We'll stop for dinner on the way. Agreed?"

Both his assistants seemed delighted by the idea—food had always been a prospect they leapt at.

"All right then." The Professor said, still chuckling. He glanced at his apprentice. "Luke, go and fetch my hat, would you? It's on the coffee table in the other room—I'll be right along once I've gotten my coat and wallet."

"You bet Professor!" the young apprentice leapt to his feet and dashed out of the office.

The moment he emerged into the living room however, he was met with a sight that stopped him in his tracks… Sure, he'd figured after their previous conversation the cat would have been curious about the 'box' the Professor wore, but he hadn't counted on walking in as it was crawling out of the depths of it—what part of behaving didn't the little guy get?!

He watched in horror as the small creature struggled to climb over the brim, only to cause the hat to topple off of the table and out of sight.

"Luke my boy, whatever is the matter?" The Professor's voice startled him out of his shock, and he whirled around, giving the first answer that popped into his head.

"Your hat's not on the coffee table, Professor." He said, stating the obvious.

The older man shifted his gaze. "Hmm, so it's not." He agreed, raising a brow. "I know I put it there though, so it must be nearby…" He moved towards the table as his voice trailed off, eliciting quite the look of panic from Luke. Behind the Professor's back, the young boy looked at Emmy—his eyes giving a very clear message:

_"help!"_

The plea had her immediately leaping into action—saying the first thing she could think of that would stop her boss from moving any further.

"Wait a second, Professor!" She watched as the archeologist turned to face her, startled by the outburst, and faltered on what to say next. She hadn't exactly thought that far ahead.

Behind him meanwhile—and she tried desperately not to draw attention to this by looking at it (a difficult task, to say the least)—a certain tophat scurried blindly across the floor and into a wall with a soft thud.

The Professor blinked, "What was-" He wasn't able finish the sentiment, for as he turned towards the sound his assistant grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the door, forcing his attention elsewhere.

"Like you said, your hat must be nearby!" She exclaimed, "So let Luke find it! We can go put my scooter on the roof of the Laytonmobile before it starts to rain again!"

"But Emmy-" The Professor was too gentlemanly to actively fight against her grip, but he certainly wasn't above protesting it, "-A gentleman can't be seen in public without his hat!"

"I'm sure it won't take him _that_ long to find it, Professor!" she retorted, not taking no for an answer, "And a gentleman wouldn't make a lady lift a scooter on her own, either!"

The door slammed shut behind them, muffling any further complaints the Professor had and leaving Luke alone with the runaway hat.

The boy watched as it sped across the room once again—this time crashing into the sofa—and sighed. It would only take the others a couple minutes at most to handle the scooter, and the Professor would no doubt hurry right back inside—he was really attached to that hat of his after all…

…Which meant that he had to hurry and catch this thing.

Luke scampered towards the couch, hoping to grab his target before it started moving again. He didn't. Instead he crashed into the sofa and watched as the hat danced out of reach. He immediately leapt to his feet and made chase, doing his best not to knock anything over, but his blinded feline friend was not taking equal consideration. Shelves and tables were knocked into, jostling rare artifacts and sending the young apprentice diving after more than one, and any time he tried to call out for it to calm down, it vehemently insisted that no box monster was going to get it alive.

"But I'm _not _the Professor!" Luke insisted, this time banging into the leg of the table with a painful 'thunk' as he dived for the hat again. "Don't you recognize my voice? It's me, Luke!" He pulled himself into a sitting position and rubbed his head gingerly. There was definitely going to be a bump there—another thing he'd have to explain to his mentor. Great.

He clambered to his feet again, heaving a sigh as the cat demanded in a panic to know where Luke was—it was still running wildly as it did so.

More importantly, time was running out.

There was no reasoning with the little guy when he was this wound up—Luke knew he had to think of it differently—like a puzzle… Maybe if he chased the hat into an area where it couldn't move much, he'd be able to catch it.

It was his best bet at this point.

Taking a step forwards, Luke took care to stomp his foot—the sound was loud and clear, meaning the cat would be able to determine its direction—and sure enough, the hat took off the other way. He made chase, taking care to keep his steps deliberate so his target wouldn't veer off suddenly, and it wasn't long before he had achieved his goal.

The cat was cornered between two cabinets in the kitchen. It was now or never.

He dove…

…And finally, his hands wrapped around the familiar silk texture of the Professor's hat.

Luke lifted it, making sure to grab the kitten before it could scurry away and giving it a firm stare. It immediately stilled and stared wide eyed in response, knowing that it had done wrong. For a long moment, they remained like this, until Luke broke the silence by speaking.

"I _told _you to be good." He said, unable to hide the exasperation in his voice, "I know it's no fun, but it's for your own safety, okay?" He once again rose to his feet, gesturing to the hat in his opposite hand and making a real effort to maintain the stern look in his eye—apparently softness wasn't getting across, so maybe firmness was the only way. It was the only option he had left for getting his point across…

"Now, I'm going to give this to the Professor, and we're going to be going out." He continued, heading for his own room to drop off his friend and grab his things, "I'll feed you when we get back, but until then I need you to _behave." _He brought the kitten up to eye level, "That means you have to stay here, _in this room_, okay?"

The creature gave a mew insisting that it had understood—much to the boy's relief- but then it blinked slowly and tilted its head.

If being good meant staying in this room, it asked, then why hadn't that been mentioned in the first place?

Luke was dumbstruck by the question.

Of course he'd told the cat to stay put! He'd specified to be quiet and be good and… It was his turn to blink in confusion.

Maybe he _hadn't _mentioned it—at least not specifically- he'd thought that being 'good' naturally inferred staying in his room… but he'd never _actually_ made the little cat promise to stay put.

"Are you telling me…" He said slowly, eyes widening incredulously, "…That _that's _all it would have taken?"

He didn't pay attention to the cat's reply as he made a precious face, registering exactly what this information meant. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt like more of a fool.

But as he got his things together and headed for the door, he knew that he'd be able to live it down.

…So long as he never, ever, told Emmy about it.


End file.
